


Captain James Harper

by Emma



Series: The Queen's Magicians [12]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-01
Updated: 2012-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-13 07:09:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emma/pseuds/Emma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The darkness gathers, but the team finds strength in each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> http://www.new-age.co.uk/welsh-burial-chambers.htm Tinkinswood and St.Lythans

_The plain extended in all directions as far as he could see. It was pure white, featureless, giving his eyes no place to rest. He knelt and touched the ground, but he could feel nothing under his fingertips. He could not-quite hear a dull drone with no variation in it, no changes in tone or pitch; the kind of noise that rasped against your nerves until you wanted to scream._

_Standing up, he made a full circle and saw nothing but more of the same never ending white. He knew that if he stayed here long, he would go insane._

          “ _It won't let you.”_

_He whipped around. She was standing there, wearing the same dress he had buried her in, eyes dead and dull. “Katie?”_

          “ _It won't let you go insane. That's the worst of it.”_

          “ _What is this place?”_

          “ _Hell.”_

_He looked around again. “But...”_

          “ _Hell isn't a pace of physical torture, Owen. There are no lakes of fire, or devils with pitchforks. Hell is the utter and complete absence of God.”_

_He grabbed her arms, but his hands could feel nothing. “Why are you here?”_

          “ _You know why. I was so sure...” She turned away. “I need to go mad, Owen, and it won't let me. Please help me. Please.”_

          “ _Katie... tell me what to do.”_

          “ _This place is... very close to the Wall Between the Worlds. If you open one of the doorways, I can escape. Please!”_

_She started to shake. Her mouth opened in a silent scream. He reached for her, crying, but she was no longer there._

          “ _Katie!"_  
  
 

 

          “Katie!”

          Owen sat up, the scream still ringing in his ears. He gasped, trying to force air into his lungs. His whole body shook hard enough that, for a brief moment, he feared he had been woken by a grand mal seizure. Then he felt moisture running down his cheeks and neck; it took a few seconds before he realized he was crying.

          He forced himself out of bed and into the bathroom. He turned the cold water tap on the shower and jumped in, not giving himself a chance to think about it. The shock set off another round of shaking, but by the time it was over he felt a little more in control. A nightmare. That’s all it had been.

          He tossed his sweat-soaked pyjama bottoms into the dirty clothes bin and padded back into the bedroom naked. The alarm clock read 4:45. There was no reason for him to be up yet, but going back to bed scared him. Right after Katie’s death, he had had nightmares every time he closed his eyes, and he didn’t want to start that cycle again. He decided to go in to work and surprise Jack and Ianto in their pre-dawn _make sure we didn’t leave anything embarrassing laying about_ Hub tour. From the time that Gwen had found Ianto’s pants in the carnivorous Amazonian lily’s pot in the greenhouse, it had become a game to Tosh and Gwen to find out what those two had been up to whenever they worked the night shift. He had sided with the guys – although he really wondered how in hell they had managed to get close enough to the lily to leave pants inside the pot and not lose a chunk of arse in the process – but he enjoyed being able to twit the girls with knowing comments and hints.

          Unfortunately, when he got to the Hub it was to find a fully dressed Jack hovering over mainframe while sipping coffee. Ianto was sitting at one of the terminals, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

          “What’s going on?”

          Jack looked over his shoulder. “Way too early for you, Owen.”

          Owen shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. What’s up?”

          “We’ve been picking up spikes of energy from the Rift. Very large ones.”

          “Christ. This close to Samhain?” Owen took off his leather jacket and slung it on the back of his chair. “That can’t be good.”

          “The thought had occurred.”

          Owen poured himself some coffee from the carafe on the work table. “Where are the spikes concentrated?”

          “Gwal-y-Filiast.”

          “That's St. Lythans, right?”

          “Yeah.”

          Owen gulped some coffee and swore when it burned his tongue. St. Lythans was an Neolithic chambered tomb outside Wenvoe, not far from Cardiff. It had as evil a reputation as its neighbour, Tinkinswood, had a good one. Legend had it that the field it stood on was cursed, and that if you stood inside the chamber on Samhain and whispered a wish it would be granted. Of course, it was always granted in such a way as to destroy everything you held most dear. At Samhain the Walls between the worlds was very, very thin and... things could pass through...

          His mouth dried up as he remembered the nightmare that had woken him.

          “Jack,” he asked, trying to keep his voice casual, “is St.Lythans a doorway? In the Rift, I mean?”

          “Sort of. It doesn't allow the ones beyond the Veil to pass but they can... reach through.” Jack picked up his cell phone and speed dialed. “Sister Eiluned? I need to see Mother Katherine.... I'm afraid so. It's St. Lythans... one o'clock will be fine... yes, I'll call if something else happens.”

          He ended the conversation. “I need Tosh.”

          “She'll be here in...” Owen looked at his watch. “Ten minutes or so. Gwen?”

          “She's off today. With Samhain coming all the Circles are making major preparations.” Jack leaned over Ianto’s shoulder to peer at the screen. “And…?”

          “And we are nowhere near getting the information we need,” Ianto answered waspishly. “The spikes are too fast and too random. Mainframe can’t give us a fix on the point of origin. Correction. Can’t give _me_ a fix, perhaps because I don’t know how to ask the questions. The only thing I can tell for sure is that St. Lythans is the largest focus, and we already knew that.”

          Jack rubbed Ianto's shoulder. “Sorry.”

          Ianto leaned his cheek against Jack's arm. “It's all right. We're both tense.”

          Owen was about to ask what was going on when the cog door alarms sounded. He looked over his shoulder to see Toshiko helping a bedraggled-looking Gwen into the Hub. He moved towards them, but Jack was there first, picking Gwen up in his arms and heading towards the medical bay.

          “Ianto, could you make some strong, sweet tea?” Jack asked. “She looks to be in shock. What happened, Tosh?”

          “I don't know. I found her in the tourist office. She was trying to open the door but couldn't manage to get her hand on the scanner.” Tosh wrinkled her nose.     “She... smells funny.”

          “Magic gone wrong,” Jack said tersely. “Andy would be puking his breakfast about right now. Tosh, Ianto has been running some pattern searches. Could you take over, please?”

          She nodded and scurried off. Jack put Gwen down on the diagnostic bed. Owen pushed him away briskly and took over, checking her thoroughly.

          “You're right, Jack. It's just exhaustion.” He took a small bottle from one of the cabinets and held it under her nose. “Come on, Gwennie. Come on.”

          Suddenly she gave a huge gasp and started trying to bat his hands away. He managed to grab her flailing arms and hold them against his chest.

          “Gwen! It’s all right, you’re in the Hub.”

          She went limp, nearly falling backwards before he had a chance to prop her up. “Thank the Mother. I need to speak to Jack.”

          “I’m here.” Jack moved to the foot of the bed. “What happened, Gwen?”

          “Hold off on that for a moment, Jack.” Ianto came downstairs carrying a big steaming mug. Putting his arm around Gwen’s shoulders, he put the mug to her lips. “Here. Tea with a little something extra. Slowly, now.”

          She obeyed, and after a while relaxed against him. “Thank you, Ianto.”

          He kissed her forehead. “You’re welcome. Now tell us what happened, Gwennie.”

          “We were Cleansing the Symbols. Arlais, our Priestess, Cast the circle and was about to Invite the Goddess when… something hit us. That’s the best way I can put it. We couldn’t see anything, but it was as if we were standing in the path of an invisible train. The Symbols flew off the Altar and smashed to the ground. Arlais was thrown clear of the Circle.” She drank more tea, holding on to Ianto’s wrist to steady herself, then put the mug on the instrument table. “But the worst thing was… Wily, our Seer, collapsed and started…babbling…. and I saw it.”

          “What did you see?” Jack asked.

          “Owen and Tosh… dead. You… riding the Wanderer’s horse... Ianto... dark in the oncoming storm...” She clung to Ianto's arms fiercely. “Cerridwen help us!”

          Ianto rocked her gently. “Hush, cariad. You know, you should know, the future is not set for anyone, even us. Things may happen, that's all.”

          Owen laid a hesitant hand on her leg, and she grabbed it tightly. He looked at Jack and tilted his head towards the cabinet where he kept the tranquilizers. Jack shook his head, mouthing _let her cry it out_. Owen nodded. Gently disengaging himself from Gwen's grasp, he grabbed a pillow from the shelf under the bed, and placed it behind her. Ianto laid her down gently. Owen stroked her temples until she relaxed. She shuddered slightly and her eyes closed.

          “Jack!” Tosh whispered from the top of the stairs. “I have the pattern. It's St. Lythans, all right, but there's something odd about it. I need to get closer to it to get a clearer reading.”

          “All right. We'll take a run up there. Ianto, I have a meeting with Mother Katherine this afternoon. I need to you handle it, then brief Andy and Kathy. Tosh and I will be back by dinner time.”

          “Should I get Rhys? The news will spread like wildfire among the Circles. He'll be going spare.”

          “Yes. Bring him here. Gwen will be happier if he's here when she wakes up.”

          “Jack...” They all turned to see Gwen sitting up on the bed, eyes open but blank. Her voice held a distant, cool tone completely at odds with the emotional storm she had weathered a few minutes before. 

           "Three things you must do. You must stop the Servant. You must save the Dreamer. And you must seal the Gate.”


	2. Chapter 2

          They turned into St. Lythans Road at few minutes before noon. Like many of the smaller roads in the outskirts of Cardiff, it was a paved-over country lane that wound its way between recently harvested fields of wheat and potatoes, pastures for cows and sheep, even a vineyard. Old farmhouses with slate roofs and muddy paddocks stood cheek by jowl with modern cottages with impeccable gardens meant for the weekend crowd and long stretches of ash and oak spinney left over from the cutting down of the great Glamorgan forest. 

          The field should be coming up soon.” Tosh kept her eyes on her netbook. “The energy fluctuations are getting more pronounced.”

          “There used to be an inn right next to it.” Jack said. “If it's still there we can use their car park and then get a hot drink before starting back. How much time will you need?”

          The day had turned bitterly cold, and clouds rolled in off the distant ocean. It would be pouring rain by nightfall. Jack had planned an evening in with Ianto, involving hot chocolate, buttered toast, a roaring fire, and an indecent amount of good sex, and he wasn't about to give up on it. Not without a fight.

          “About an hour at the most,” Tosh answered. “Less if we get close.”

          “Not too close,” Jack said. “It's not Samhain yet, but let's not take any chances.”

          A thick stretch of wood gave way to a low stone fence. Behind it the ground sloped down gently to a three story whitewashed building with its upper stories framed in dark wood and ending in a steep slate roof. A large chimney at each end sent twin curls of smoke into the wet air. The lights were on, and through the many-paned windows they could see people sitting at tables and couches and waitresses in long skirts and caps handing out food and drink.

          Jack turned the SUV into the small car park by the gate. “The field is behind those woods. There should be a trail from the side of the inn.”

          He took Tosh's arm and they walked towards the gravel courtyard on the left of the building. As they reached the head of the trail leading into the woods, a small side door opened and an elderly man stepped out. He was nattily dressed in a style fifty years out of date, with a red cravat inside an open-necked blue shirt and a pinstriped suit. His hair was neatly combed straight back. To Jack he seemed at bit theatrical; someone dressed to play the role of the gay uncle in a drawing room farce.

          “Hello. Welcome to the St. Lythans Hotel. I'm Bilis Manger, the proprietor.”

          Jack shook the extended hand. “I'm Jack Harkness and this is my partner, Toshiko Sato.”

          “It's a raw day to be outside. May I offer you the sanctuary of our Ritz Café? We make very good coffee and excellent French pastries.”

          “That sounds lovely,” Tosh said. “Perhaps later, Jack? I’d like to get pictures of the tomb.” She smiled at Manger. “I am interested in Neolithic architecture.”

          He smiled at her. “It is spectacular. Perhaps I'll see you later, then.”

          They watched him walk back inside, then set off into the spinney. Under the trees it was cooler but drier; the thick canopy kept off the wind and rain. They could hear the rustlings of small animals in the undergrowth and birds in the branches. Once or twice Jack noticed Tosh making a small gesture towards a bush or a branch and wondered what it was like to move in a world where every creature was a possible friend and ally. Or enemy.

          The trees ended abruptly at the edge of large field. In the middle of it four massive stones created the illusion of a doorless chamber. Jack's hackles rose and he found himself growling in the back of his throat.

          “I don't think I should go any nearer, Tosh. There might be... uncomfortable interactions. I'll search the perimeter.”

          “That's fine, Jack,” she answered absently as she entered commands into the notebook. “It'll only take me fifteen minutes or so.”

          She walked up to the chamber's door. The closer she got the wilder the reading fluctuations became. At times she felt a breeze blowing past her that seemed to come from inside the chamber. Something seemed to _insinuate_ itself into her consciousness, tangling her thoughts and making her eyelids flicker. She closed her eyes for a moment.

 

_He was gaunt and bloodless, and his face was a noh mask rather than flesh. He reached for her with skeletal hands, skin shriveling from grasping, needy fingers. The strong, rumbling voice she remembered had changed into a thin wail that grated on her ears._

          “ _My daughter. My daughter. I am sorry.”_

          “ _Father?”_

          “ _Please. I need you. I need your help.” His hands curled upwards, begging. “Need to explain. Need to talk. Please. Come closer. Listen.”_

_Anger left a bitter aftertaste on her tongue. “You need me, father? Me? The talentless child? The eunuch?”_

          “ _Please. Please, don't. It hurts. Please come here. Help me. Please.”_

_She wanted to mock him, but couldn’t. She wanted to hate him, but couldn’t. Her foot shifted in order to take the first step, when a sharp pain jolted her into opening her eyes._

 

          “Ow!”

          Tosh looked down. Blood was running down into her shoe from a gash above her ankle. The small fox sat a few steps away, daintily cleaning her paw on the grass.

          “ _What did you do that for?”_ She asked, pulling a tissue out of her bag and dabbing at the gash.

          “ _You were listening to the One who Answers.”_ The fox retorted _. “If you had taken the first step, we could not have pulled you back. Are man-kits not taught anything?”_

          “ _Not about this, obviously. Thank you.”  
_

          “ _You’re welcome. One last thing I will say. Remember that the Hunters can cross what we cannot. Now, go join your skulk mate.”_

          With a last flick of the tail, the fox scampered away. Tosh looked around for Jack and found him looking at a stand of young oaks at the far end of the field. As she turned away from the stones, she thought she heard a snarl. She looked over her shoulder, but couldn’t see anything. She started to walk towards Jack, but again heard the same sound, only louder and in some strange way, more feral. Something about it scared her enough to make her run, gasping, until she crashed into Jack’s back, nearly sending them both to the ground.

          “Hey!” He wrapped his arms around her. “What’s wrong?”

          “Tell you later. Let’s go get that drink, ok? I’m freezing cold.”

          He nodded, but didn’t let go. Arms wrapped around each other's waists, they walked back to the hotel courtyard. When they came out of the spinney, they found that the wind had picked up and it was starting to rain. Jack pulled his coat over their heads as they made a dash for the front entrance. He shouldered the door open and they stepped into the lobby.

          They looked around and then at each other in bewilderment. The place seemed deserted – no, it seemed _abandoned._ There was dust, cobwebs, and rat droppings everywhere. The floor had not seen either broom or hoover for what seemed like centuries. The furniture was worm-ridden and the drapes moldy. And yet, from behind a frosted glass door at the end of a corridor came the sound of laughter and clinking silverware.  


          “Out.” Jack said quietly. “Right now.”

          They opened the door and stepped back out into the courtyard.

          The building was surrounded by a thick wall of white that hid everything beyond the courtyard's paving stones. It was fog, yet thicker, shot through with random flashes of lightning, and it hummed with energy.

          Jack gestured for Tosh to stay behind as he walked up to it. The moment he got close enough to touch it, the wall reacted. A bolt of lightning smashed into his chest and flung him back to land in a heap at Tosh's feet. She helped him up and slapped at his shoulders to douse the flames that had started to burn into his coat.

          “Happens every time.”  


          They turned back towards the door. Tosh had to suppress the desire to whistle. he man standing in the doorway was slightly taller and bulkier than Jack, but he had the same physical presence, the same air of command. He wore what she thought was a WWII RAF uniform with the easy comfort of someone used to it.

          “We have all tried. It doesn't kill us but it doesn't let us leave.” He held up a hand to show a thick scar running from the base of his thumb up into his sleeve. “For my troubles.”

          Jack extended his hand. “I'm Jack Harkness, Group Captain.”

          The other man took it. “James Harper. RAF. You seem to have done your bit.”

          Jack smoothed down the coat. “We all did. This is my partner, Toshiko Sato.”

          “Miss Sato.” He shook her hand. “Just from curiosity, Ma'am, what's your year?”

          “Our year?”

          “Outside, ma'am. What year do you two come from?”

          She looked at Jack, who nodded. “Two thousand and seven.”

          Captain Harper pointed at Jack's coat. “There must be story behind that.”

          “There is. I'll tell you someday.” Jack grinned. “Where are we, Captain Harper?”

          “I don't know. I was returning from a training flight when I hit what I thought was a cloud. Somehow all the air was gone, even the oxygen tank. I passed out. Next thing I knew, I was sprawled on the paving stones. And I've been here since.” He shrugged. “Not that I know how long that has been. It takes the sense of time away, this place. No night, no day. Just that.” He pointed overhead. The sky was an uniform pewter shade dotted with darker gray clouds. “You don't die, but you don't live either. This is all there is.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Ianto!”  
  
          Owen’s shout made Gwen look up in time to see Ianto crumple to the floor. Ever since Rhys had arrived in the Hub, she had been sitting on his lap in the ratty old sofa, his big arms wrapped around her, her head tucked securely in the space between his neck and shoulder. She had laughed at his startled what the fuck? when he had first spotted Myfanwy, and nearly cried when she felt his hands stroking up and down her spine. Ianto had put coffee mugs on the table in front of them and told them to stay put until Jack returned or someone had to visit the facilities, whichever came first. Then he had ducked her swat and walked away, snickering.  
  
          She jumped up and ran to him, Rhys close behind. Owen was already there, hands moving fast as he scanned Ianto's body.  
  
          “He's clammy,” he told Gwen. “I would say shock, but that the way his eyelids are flickering makes me think he's having a precognitive incident. Except that he's not any sort of clairvoyant. Hold on to him, will you? Sometimes people in this condition will start to convulse.”  
  
          Gwen grabbed Ianto's hands. “Ianto? Sweetheart? Please come back to us.” She felt Rhys kneel behind her and place his hands over hers. “Ianto?”  
  
          His eyes flickered even faster then suddenly he opened them. For a second or two they were solid blue, with no white showing; then, just as suddenly, they were normal again. He took a deep breath and started to sit up.  
  
          “No, Owen, don't fuss. I'm fine. Gwen, let go of my hands, I'm going to need them. Rhys, someone fouled your testing. We'll need to send you to the Episcopal Board as soon as it may be, but not today. We're going to need you here.”  
  
          “Ianto!” Owen shook him slightly. “Slow down. What's going on?”  
  
          “Something has taken Jack.”  
  
          The words, delivered in Ianto's calmest tone, sent a burst of terror through Gwen. “What do you mean, gone?”  
  
          “He's no longer of this side of the Wall.” Ianto scrambled to his feet and helped Gwen up. “No, Gwen, don't panic, he's alive. We'll get him back. Owen...”  
  
          “How do you know?” Rhys broke in. “That he's alive, I mean?”  
  
           Ianto rubbed his chest. “I know. Owen, call Andy. He and Rhys can help you hold the fort while Gwen and I go out to St. Lythans.”  
  
          “You think something's going to happen while Jack is... gone?” Gwen asked.  
  
          “Can you think of any other reason to remove him? All those people who have been telling us about the coming darkness... we thought it was coming for Jack. A personal thing, because of his father. But what if it's coming for everyone? For the earth itself?”  
  
          Gwen shivered. “Jack could be our first and last line of defense.”  
  
          “Yeah. Rhys, you can use a computer.” Ianto pushed Rhys into Tosh's chair. “I'm going to start a program running.” He tapped out a sequence of commands. “See these numbers here? Keep an eye on them. If you see them start to fluctuate, Owen will need to know. If this top number here goes past +5 you hit this button right here.”  
  
          “What is it doing?” Rhys asked, nearly pressing his nose to the screen as he tried to read the numbers flashing by.  
  
          “It's monitoring Rift openings. Fluctuations means the openings are getting bigger and unstable. Plus five means all Hell is breaking loose. Literally. The button is a... desperate move. Don’t think about it, don’t second guess. Hit it.”  
  
          Rhys swallowed hard. “All right.”  
  
           “Andy's on his way.” Owen ended his call. “He says to do a quick search into the files before you go anywhere. One of his Tad’s earliest cases had to do with St. Lythans. He remembers his Tad being spooked by it.”  
  
          Ianto moved to his own terminal. “Here we go. Davidson, field reports. St. Lythans… here it is. A couple was seen wandering around St. Lythans’ Road, wearing what looked like Victorian clothes. Several people spoke to them. They seemed confused about where they were and what was happening but did give their names as Doctor and Mrs. Harlan Macris. Someone sent for the police, but by the time they got there the Macrises had disappeared. A local farmer and his wife reported seeing them going into the grounds of the St. Lythans’ Hotel and talking to the proprietor. And that’s it. It was a low-priority thing so when the police filed a report with us, it got handed to the junior staff. Davidson did manage to get a picture. It seems the farmer’s son had gotten a camera for Christmas.”  
  
          The photo showed three people standing in front of the St. Lythans’ Hotel. The Macrises were clearly wearing the epitome of Victorian elegance. The other, a slender, elderly man, wore a smoking jacket with a red cravat. “The third man was identified as Bilis Manger, the manager of the St. Lythans.”  
  
          Gwen leaned in over his shoulder. “Ianto, can you enlarge that window in the hotel? The right-hand one, yeah. There’s someone standing there.”  
  
          Ianto zoomed in. The window was open. A woman was leaning out slightly, arm extended as if to wave at passersby. As the magnification increased even more and the face became clear, Gwen gasped and Owen swore.  
  
          It was Toshiko.

  
  
          They followed James Harper back into the hotel and into the cafe in the back. Jack was surprised to find a real fin de siecle room, with gilded mosaic walls, plush red banquettes against the walls and ironwork tables and chairs in the center. An exquisite bar ran the length of the back wall. There was no bartender or waiters; food and drink appeared at random intervals, and dirty plates and glasses disappeared, but no matter how hard you tried you couldn't see the exact moment it happened. The guests – as they called themselves for lack of a better word – ranged from an upper-crust Victorian couple to a Roman legionnaire.   
  
          “James was right,” Jack sat down next to Tosh, who was occupying one of the banquettes, netbook on the table in front of her. “Nobody I spoke to remembers how long they have been here.”  
  
          “Same here,” Tosh said, “but I did get an interesting bit of information from Mrs. Macris. She and her husband were walking in the garden one day and suddenly they found themselves in a road full of terrible horseless carriages. The people who spoke to them sounded odd, threatening. They were terrified and fled back into the grounds, but they couldn't find their way to the hotel itself until Mr. Manger arrived to take them back.”  
  
          “And that tells you something?”  
  
          “It tells me that Manger shuts down whatever it is that's holding us in when he needs to get in and out to the real world. And that means...”  
  
          “It's mechanical, not magical.”  
  
          “More like a combination of both. There are several possibilities, but they depend on Manger's level of Talent. Whichever it ends up being, it needs some sort of energy wave generator.” She patted the netbook. “And that can be detected by my baby here. I'm going for a walk.”  
  
          Tosh grabbed her purse and stood up. Jack held her wrist for a second; she smiled down at him and nodded. He watched her leave. She stopped once or twice to speak to one of the other women. Mrs. Macris laughed and pointed. Tosh made a gesture and dashed out, looking exactly like a desperate woman who had finally figured out where the ladies' facilities were.  
  
          “She is quite beautiful.” Captain Harper slid into the seat Toshiko had vacated. “Is she your woman?”  
  
          “No.”  
  
          “There's no one special, then?”  
  
          “Yes. There is.” Jack smiled at him. “But he doesn't expect me to be blind.”  
  
          “I wish to God I could say the same. But in my time...” The Captain tossed back his drink. “It wasn't a cloud I hit, was it? My plane crashed.”  
  
          Jack took the Captain's hand in his and twinned their fingers. “I think so, yes.”  
  
          “And I never even got to...” He tightened his grip. “It was too dangerous, you see.”  
  
          “I know.” Jack lifted their joined hands to his lips. “I'll make you a promise. Before it's all over, you will.”  
  
          “What is his name?”  
  
          “Ianto.”  
  
          “You're a lucky man, Jack.”  
  
          “I know.”  
  
  
          Tosh stared at the readout. She had followed the netbook's signal upstairs and to the small room at the end of the corridor. It was the most impersonal room Tosh had ever seen. A desk and two chairs sat in one corner; a cot covered with a white sheet and a thin white blanket, a bedside table and a small lamp in the other. There were no photos, paintings, or curtains. Not even an alarm clock, and Tosh didn't think anyone could live without one of those. A thin coat of dust covered everything.  
  
          She turned in a big circle, holding the netbook balanced on the palm of her hand. As she swept by the window it emitted a loud series of beeps. She repeated the movement and it happened again.  
  
          She crouched down to examine the floor below the window. Four small impressions in the dust showed something had sat there very recently. The window frame had two deep indentations where clamps had been applied to the wood.   
  
          She opened the window. Even from this height, she could not see over the wall of fog that surrounded the St Lythans. She looked up. The sky remained a flat dirty gray sheet with a few darker spots where clouds should have been. A lone falcon hovered above, riding the thermals with its wings spread wide.  
  
          Suddenly she remembered what the kitsune had said: the Hunters can cross what we cannot. Peregrines were notoriously bad tempered loners; she didn't know whether she could even attract its attention. But with the energy wave generator gone, it might be the only chance she and Jack would have.  
  
          Rummaging in her purse she found some paper, but no pencil or pen. The desk's drawers were empty except for a small letter opener. She considered her options and then, before she could think about it, she stabbed the opener into the pad at the base of her left thumb. Blood swelled immediately. She dipped her right index nail in it and scribbled her message. She blew on it to dry, then rolled it tightly.  
  
          She ran back to the window and looked up, concentrating. It was slow work; the peregrine's mind was full of the thrill of the wind and the hunt. She pushed harder, relentlessly. Finally, he plummeted towards her with a shrill cry, to come rest on her arm.  
  
 _What do you want, female?  
  
          To ask your help. Please. The one who lords over this place keeps us prisoner. We cannot feel the wind. We cannot hunt.  
  
          That is an evil deed, but what can I do about it?  
  
          You can take a message to my cast that they might come to my aid.  
  
          That I will do. _It closed its claws firmly around the small roll of paper _. How shall I know them?  
  
_           She showed him images of Ianto, Gwen, Andy, and Owen _. Any of them.  
  
          I will seek, then.  
_  
          Tosh leaned out of the window, holding her arm out stiffly to allow the take off, and then watched the falcon fly upwards until he disappeared into the sourceless gray.


	4. Chapter 4

          Jack studied the figures on the screen. “He left and locked the door behind him.”

          Tosh nodded. “Yes, but see these here? The amount of energy being expended to maintain the shield is astronomical. Whatever Manger could produce with his gadget was a candle compared to a nuclear furnace.”

          “So you’re saying that he didn’t create the shield. He found it and made use of it?”

          “That’s the most logical assumption. I compared the current readings with the ones for the last five years. There’s a slight difference in the energy signatures.” She pointed. “Almost unnoticeable unless you’re looking for it.”

          “Yes.” He tapped on the table top as he read and re-read the screen. “Remind me of this the next time you want an equipment upgrade and I get stroppy, Tosh.”

          “Deal.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “We might not get out of here, Jack.”

          “Don’t be silly,” he admonished gently, pressing his lips to her forehead. “You got the information out. All we need to do is wait for the right moment.”

          She tilted her head so she could see his face. “And what about Captain Harper, Jack?”

          “He will have a choice. They all will.”

          “What sort of a choice?” They both turned to find the Captain standing behind them carrying two plates full of small sandwiches. He placed them on the table and slid into the booth next to Jack. “I noticed neither one of you ate earlier so I thought… They do say people who eavesdrop only have themselves to blame for what they hear. Tell me.”

          Jack took a deep breath. “Do either one of you know anything about fairy forts?”

          Tosh stared at him, wide eyed and silent. The Captain shrugged.

          “Only what I’ve picked up from reading and mess hall bull. I was brought up strict Catholic, so there wasn’t much about anything pagan when I was growing up. The stories are always about someone who falls into a fairy fort, thinks he’s been there a year, and when he comes out one hundred years have passed. Are you saying this is a fairy fort?”

          “No, but it does share some of their characteristics.” Jack bit into a sandwich and grinned at Tosh’s little bleat of distress. “That’s superstition, Tosh. Eating fairy food will not enchant you into staying with them.”

          “Then what does?” The Captain asked.

          “The fort itself. Fairy forts are invisible to the human eye because they are constantly moving between Earth and Annwfn. Inside, the sense of time passing is lost because the fort is moving too fast relative to the two worlds outside. The Fair Folk control _when_ a fort stops for long enough for anyone to enter or leave.”

          “So it moves in time as well as space?” Tosh’s eyes went dreamy. “But that means…”

          “What does that have to do with my making a choice?” the Captain interrupted.

          Jack laid his hand on the Captain's arm. “When the fort stops, the time inside resets to match the time outside.”

          The Captain flinched. “And I've been thirty-two since nineteen-forty one.”

          “You could stay here. As long as you stay inside the perimeter…”

          The Captain made a sweeping gesture that took in all the café. “This isn't living, Jack. I'll take whatever little time I have outside. I'll bet you'll find we all will. What's the most someone has survived after living in a fairy fort?”

          “A few months. A year at most.”

          “Aging sixty five or so years in a few months.” The Captain sighed. “That's going to be difficult.”

          “Actually, no. It doesn't happen that way. You stay as you are until one day you don't wake up, and your corpse looks its age.” Jack looked down at the table. “And there are other options, if you wish them.”

          Toshiko held up a hand. “We're getting ahead of ourselves here. Manger took his gadget with him. The only way to stop the hotel is from the outside. Even if the falcon gets the message to someone, how would they know what to do?”

         Jack laughed. “You forget, Tosh. One of us really has a fairy godmother.”

 

 

          Gwen held very still as Ianto went from tree to tree, touching the trunks for a few minutes and then moving on. She had never seen an Achlesydd at work. They were the oldest of the Old Lines, and their magic was subtle and secret. Even now she could barely follow Ianto's movements as he Spoke to the trees. Finally, he nodded and bowed.

          “Jack and Tosh were here. The One Who Answers tried to lure Tosh in but a kitsune stopped it. They walked back to the hotel and went in. Sometime later a man came out and drove the SUV away.”

          “Let's go, then.”

          He pulled her back none too gently. “The Trees do not like the hotel. They say it's not a proper place.”

          “Trees have a sense of propriety?” She nearly chuckled until she saw the look on his face. “Sorry, Ianto. I'm nervous, yeah?”

          He stroked her cheek. “I know. Yes, they do, but not like ours. Trees deal in archetypes, Gwen. They think the St. Lythans lacks, well, _buildishness_. They think it is insane.”

          She shivered at the choice of words. She started to ask another question, but the harsh “kak, kak, kak” of a falcon high overhead distracted her. She looked up in time to see it throw itself into a flat-out dive towards them. It moved so fast she didn't have a chance to give Ianto a warning before the falcon had pulled out of the dive just a few inches from their faces. The harsh call repeated itself as it exended one of its claws out. Ianto put out his hand and the falcon dropped a piece of paper into it.

          “Clever Tosh,” Ianto murmured as he unrolled the paper. “Gwen, look at this.”

          “ _Disrupt en. waves construct. inter._ What does that mean?”

          “She's telling us what we have to do to stop whatever is happening. But what exactly is happening...” he shrugged. “I have no idea.”

          “What is it that we have to do?” Gwen asked, reading the message again. “Disrupt... energy waves?” A childhood memory teased her. “Ianto... why do the trees think the hotel is insane?”

          “They said it isn’t rooted like a proper building. It moves... like an ocean wave? Or a breeze?”

          “Arianhrod preserve us. Come on, Ianto!”

          She took off at a dead run, using the remote to turn on the SUV. He chased after her, jumping into the passenger seat as she scrambled behind the wheel and set off at Jack-like speeds. “Gwen, where are we going?”

          “Tinkinswood! When I was a little girl, my godmother told me that a fairy fort hid itself by moving between my world and hers _on waves like the ones on the sea_ _._ It's mad, I know, but when you said that... Well, if I'm wrong it's only a couple of miles and they might know something anyway.”

          He didn't bother to answer, holding on for dear life as the SUV careened down the road. A few minutes later Gwen threw it into a sharp turn and they splashed across a small stream and up to a large earth-covered mound crowned with several low stone walls framing a gigantic burial chamber. Gwen stopped the SUV at the foot of the mound, jumped out, and marched up the avenue created by the stone walls. Ianto followed to stand behind her and slightly to one side, as he often did with Jack.

          “By the name of my Cradle I call unto thee.” Gwen's voice took on the cadence of an incantation. “By the name of my Blessing, I call unto thee. By the name of my Sanction, I call unto thee.”

          To Ianto it seemed as if the stones flickered in and out of existence and then faded away completely. In their place was a large square tower with a massive iron door. They waited in silence until the door opened and a tall fairy lord stood barring the entrance.

          “Who Cradled you, Blessed you, and Sanctioned you?”

          “The Lady Aeronwen, sister to the High King.”

          “She was always given to befriending mortals. I never was, nor do I intend to start now.” His eyes flicked over her to Ianto. “Ah. More interesting. Is he your paramour?”

          “He is my friend.”

          “I think I would like him for my own.” The fairy raised his hand. “Come here, mortal.”

          Ianto dropped his wards and used his full force to throw back the Summons. “Do not speak to me as if I were a dog, elf.”

          The fairy lord’s eyes widened as he felt the spell bounce back. He stepped closer and placed his fingertips on Ianto's chest. After a few seconds, he turned to Gwen. “You travel in rare circles, child. What is it you want?”

          Gwen's expression clearly told Ianto that she was filing away that exchange for later discussion. “What can you tell us about the place near Maes-y-Felin?” She asked, using the most ancient name for St. Lythans.

          “About sixty mortal years ago a man lived there with a sick daughter. He appealed to the One Who Answers for her health, and it answered by binding the dying child's spirit to the house and transferring the stones' powers to it.”

          “Can it be stopped?” Gwen asked.

          “I suppose it can.” The fae lord shrugged. “But why should we bother? It has nothing to do with us."

          “It will,” Ianto said softly. “The Land’s Warrior is trapped inside and Darkness is on the move. Do you remember what happened the last time the Fair Folk turned their backs on mortals?”

          “Indeed I do.” The fairy Lord studied them for what seemed like a long time. “Very well. I’ll summon the host.”

 

 

          They knew the moment the assault on the St. Lythans started. The hotel shook as if caught in an earthquake. Glasses fell off the shelves behind the bar to smash on the tile; light bulbs exploded. A dull throbbing roar they could feel resonate through their bones rose and ebbed with each spasm.

          They had spoken to each and everyone of the guests, and, as the Captain had predicted, they all had chosen to move on. Jack had emphasized that it was only a chance, but they hadn’t cared. Some had been shocked to realize how much time had passed, and were afraid of living outside after so many years, but once Jack reassured them that there would be a place for them to stay safely away from the world if they so chose they were eager to leave.

          “I, for one, will be glad to tend a garden again, or hold a needle,” Mrs. Macris had said to Tosh, “even if it’s only for a few months.”

          As soon as the first shock subsided, Jack started everyone moving. “Let’s get to the lobby, just in case we have to make a run for it.”

          Doctor Macris, who had been sitting at the table closest to the door, tried to open it and was repulsed by an electric shock that threw him halfway across the room. Wooden shutters slammed over the windows, plunging the whole room in darkness. Jack felt a thick carpet appear underfoot; he touched a wall to discover a similar covering padding its surface.

          “Someone doesn’t want us to leave!” The Captain shouted as the hotel started to shake again.

          “It doesn’t want us to get hurt, either,” Jack said. “So let’s see how much pain it’s willing to inflict.”

He grabbed the door handle. Electricity flowed through him but he held on, feeling the skin of his palms burn and his bones crackle. He could see the Captain struggling with Tosh to keep her from throwing herself at him. Energy slammed through him. It lifted him off his feet and arched his spine until he was almost folded in half. He screamed.

          Suddenly it was all over. The café door swung open and he stumbled out into the lobby. Nearly blind from the pain, he felt Tosh wrap her arm around his waist and the Captain around his shoulders. The building seemed to sigh and then the front door blew off its hinges and daylight poured in.

          “Everyone outside! Now!”

          The Captain’s order had the guests stumbling out to the courtyard. The fog wall was gone and they could see down to the crumbling fence and the road beyond, but what made them gasp was the sight of an elven host in full battle gear filling the space where the fog used to be.

          “Holy Mary Mother of God,” the Captain whispered. “I didn’t really…”

          “Nobody really does until you see them,” Tosh said.

          “Jack! Tosh!” Gwen ran up, flinging her arms indiscriminately around them. “Oh, I’m so glad to see you!”

          Jack hugged her. “We’re fine, Gwen.” He looked past her at  the man walking up to them, phone held to one ear.

          “Yes, Andy? Good. Keep at it. We need all the information we can get on Mr. Manger.” Ianto closed the call and put the phone back in his pocket, grinning at Jack. “You do make…”

          Whatever else he was going to say was smothered by Jack’s lips. He struggled a little, for form’s sake, then relaxed into the kiss, threading his fingers through Jack’s hair. When their mouths parted they rested their foreheads together, breathing each other’s breaths, reassuring themselves that the other one was there, safe and sound.

          “There’s someone I want you to meet,” Jack whispered to Ianto. “He reminds me so much of you…”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A funny thing happened on the way to the smut... The Captain insisted on privacy. I'm not being completely fatuous here – I tried, but everything beyond what you see here came out either dull or sleazy. It felt wrong. I'm sorry if it disappoints.

          “He means it, you know.” Ianto opened the door and stood aside to let Jack and the Captain enter. “A Tylwyth Teg never offers an invitation unless they mean it. You could go live at the fort.”  
  
          “But why?” At Jack's wordless request, the Captain shrugged out of his jacket and handed it over. “Why would this Lord Gwyddyon take a look at me and offer me a position in his court?”  
  
          Jack and Ianto traded a look and burst out laughing. The Captain folded his arms across his chest, waiting them out with a slightly offended look.  
  
          “I'm sorry, Captain,” Ianto gasped. “No insult intended. It's just that we forgot you don't know anything about the Fair Folk. He asked you because he found you attractive and he noticed you found him attractive also.”  
  
          “I didn't... yes, I did.” The Captain flushed. “It's going to take a little time to get used to this... freedom. Not needing to hide.”  
  
          “Well, there are still bigots about, and your Church still condemns us, but you could live with someone openly and even enter into a civil partnership with them.” Jack grinned. “And the Fair Folk are outside all the rules.”  
  
          The Captain stared at Jack, eyes huge and face slack with shock. Ianto took pity on him. “We can talk about this later. Captain, how about a hot shower?”  
  
          “Ah... I wouldn't say no. I don't think I've had a decent shower since I left Grand Rapids. And the name is James.”  
  
          “You're going to love this one. And it's Ianto.” He led the way to the bedrooms. “The guest room is a bit small, I'm afraid. We're converting two flats on the top floor to a single, and we're stuck here for the duration.”  
  
          “Ianto...”  
  
          Ianto looked over his shoulder. The Captain – James – was standing at the foot of the bed, looking as if he wished himself anywhere but where he was. “What's wrong?”  
  
          “When we were... back there... Jack made me a promise. I want you to know I won't hold him to it.”  
  
          Ianto turned back, not stopping until he was standing very close to the Captain. “What sort of promise?”  
  
          “He had told me about you and I said I hadn't even... and he said before it was over I would. I thought he meant... but know that I see the two of you together, I understand. He probably thought we wouldn't get out or I would die or...”  
  
          Ianto pressed his lips against the Captain's, cutting off the nervous flow of words. He felt James stiffen then suddenly relax, mouth opening under his, hands coming to rest on his shoulders. He licked delicately at the inside of James's lips and was rewarded with a shudder. He let his wards down enough to See the Captain, and immediately understood the reason for Jack's action.  
  
          “I don't know what Jack had in mind when he made his promise,” he whispered, “but I think I should ask you how you feel about sharing.”  
  
          James swallowed hard. “Sharing sounds... good.”  
  
          Ianto stepped away. “Let's get you into the shower.” He explained the shower controls, pointed out the toiletries and towels, then studied James for a moment. “You're like Jack in the leg but a bit broader on the shoulder. I have something that should fit. One of Jack's impulse buys. I'll leave it on the bed.”  
  
           He walked out, closing the door behind him. Rummaging through the hall closet, he found the tracksuit bottoms with matching tee Jack had brought without trying on. Leaving it on the guest room bed, he returned to the great room to find Jack sitting at the dining room table, laptop open. He peeked over Jack's shoulder.  
  
          “Writing reports without having to be prompted? What is the world coming to?”  
  
          Without looking away from the screen, Jack reached back to grab Ianto's hand. “That's what worries me. We need to find this Bilis Manger.”  
  
          “He's the Servant, isn't he? The one Gwen foresaw.”  
  
          “I think so. I met him briefly and, unless he's better at hiding his power than anyone else I've ever met, he couldn't have done all this by himself.”  
  
          Ianto came around to sit next to Jack. “If anyone can find him, Andy will. I told him to call us in case of emergency but other than that to leave it until tomorrow. You and Tosh both need the rest.'  
  
          “Yeah. Ah... about James...”  
  
          “He told me about your promise. Completely embarrassed, poor man.” Ianto kept his eyes on the carpet. “He says he won't hold you to it.”  
  
          “He sounded so lonely. I remember those days. You could be hauled into court for what you did in the privacy of your own home. Men who kept underage mistresses passing judgment on two adult men because they were in love. If you wanted a military career you knew better than to even be seen with another man in any sort of social situation. Wife and children if you wanted to go above captain. It was all a sham and it made everyone involved miserable. More than one committed suicide.” he sighed. “When James said he hadn't even... I'm sorry, Ianto.”  
  
          “I'm not.” He looked up to meet Jack's eyes. “You and I have never lived by everyone else's rules, Jack, and this is no time to start.”  
  
          “Ianto...”  
  
          “Let me ask you something, Jack. Since we have been together, have you been tempted? Looked at someone and wondered what they would be like in bed?”  
  
          Jack smile was a little strained. “Do I get a “get out of jail free” card before I say anything?”  
  
          Ianto reached for the antique brandy decanter and glasses on the side table and poured a small amount for both of them. Handing Jack one of the glasses, he sipped at his, considering his answer. “Why should you need one? Everyone with a healthy sexuality does. They just don't act on it because there's more important things than instant gratification. And you have the best impulse control I've ever known.”  
  
          “That's not my reputation,” Jack pointed out.  
  
          “I know. It took me a while to figure out you did it on purpose. So many people just look at the surface and think that's the whole. If your feelings overrode your control this occasion, there had to have been a good reason for it.” He set down the glass. “I Looked at him, Jack. So much repressed hunger, and so much grief, so much anger. I think I would have thought less of you if you hadn't promised.”  
  
          He stood up and held out his hand. “Come on. James deserves the best experience we can give him.”  
  
          They nearly ran down the corridor. When they reached the guest bedroom door, they found the Captain wearing the track bottoms and staring at the t-shirt with a puzzled look on his face. He looked at them and held it out to them, pointing at the large red letters on the front spelling out SEX OBJECT.  
  
          “Jack's idea of a joke,” Ianto said. “It'll take a little long to explain right now. We came to tell you you're in the wrong bedroom.”   
  
          “If you want to,” Jack said gently. “No coercion and no expectations, James. Only if you want to.”  
  
          The Captain's eyes widened and his pupils flared. Dropping the t-shirt on the floor, he went out to meet them. Anyone less experienced at reading other people than Jack or Ianto would have seen only the confident tilt of the chin, the self-assured stance; they saw beneath to the uneasiness, the uncertainty. Jack took his hand and brought it to his lips.  
  
          “You have every reason to be uncomfortable. If you would prefer a slightly less adventurous introduction...”  
  
          “No! God, no! I have a year, maybe less. I could go to sleep tonight and not wake up. I want all the adventure I can get!” James threaded the fingers of his free hand through his hair. “I'm afraid I won't... measure up somehow.”  
  
          Jack laughed. “Do you know how tempting inexperience is, James? How arousing? Can you imagine how delicious it is to teach?”  
  
          “Or to learn?” Ianto pressed his palm over James's heart. “To feel hands that know exactly how and where to touch, a mouth that knows exactly how and where to kiss? To have your hands, your mouth, be taught the patterns of someone else's body? The hidden weaknesses, the sensitive spots?”  
  
          The low moan that erupted from the Captain's mouth and the sudden convulsive grasp of his arms around their waists answered all their questions. They guided him gently into the master bedroom, and felt his hands tighten at the sight of the half-acre of pillows and duvets that made up what Jack called an adequate bed.   
  
          Jack licked a path from James's throat up to his earlobe. “Would you like to watch us first?” The jerky nod was answer enough. “Get into bed. Make yourself comfortable.”  
  
          They waited until he had pushed some pillows up against the headboard and leaned back against them, hands folded demurely in his lap, as if that could hide the arousal that flushed his cheeks and made his skin glimmer with sweat. Then they undressed each other slowly, pausing to kiss and suck and lick and bite at the exposed skin. It was not a performance, but they were aware of being watched, of the quiet gasps and sighs coming from the bed, and it went straight to their groins.   
  
          When the last piece of clothing was disposed of, they turned to look at James. His eyes were feverish, his hands holding the duvet in a death grip, his tracksuits bottoms tented over an impressive erection. They looked at each other happily.  
  
          “Lesson number one?” Ianto purred.  
  
          “Lesson number one.”


End file.
